Power Play
by Cinnamonxx
Summary: In a deceptively small voice, she continued to goad him. "Humour me."" ...The tense struggle as two equally headstrong individuals try to mentally dominate one another. Eventual JxL First Fanfic... be gentle
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

First submitted Fanfic, hope you enjoy! =))

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"Don't you find all this boring, Jack?" Lisa asked casually from her lazy position on the couch. Jackson looked up from his laptop to regard her. She didn't make eye contact, but rather continued her languid appraisal of the sun set outside.

"And what do you mean by that?" Jackson pried with genuine interest whilst trying to glean clues from her body language, unsuccessfully.

"It's rude to answer a question with a question" she quoted smugly to him much to his annoyance, her gaze still fixed to the horizon, "you should know that, Jack." Lisa had deliberately opted to use his shorter and strongly despised nickname to try and annoy him. She was succeeding, much to his growing aggravation.

"Humour me." He spoke coldly. At his obvious change in tone Lisa turned her head so that her eyes met Jackson's, a small smile playing on her lips. She remained silent, her eyes seemingly doing all the talking needed. She was playing with him and she was enjoying it. All the bullshit superiority and infuriating smugness he taunted her with on a daily basis, she found, was now playing on _her _mind. The thick silence had begun to grow stale in the air, but neither averted their stubborn gaze from one another.

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They'd been co-existing together now for over a month. Lisa's endlessly entertaining and hysterical attempts of escape had become scarcer and weaker, which Jackson took as a sign of steady defeat. His plan was right on track, as intended.

But maybe it was working to well…. The fiery brunette he'd grown to have a strange fascination for was steadily becoming somewhat of a shell. Her gaze was always vacant, her retaliations to his provoking had become non-existent, even his suggestive comments barely even made her shudder anymore. Where was his Lisa, had she left, or was she just hiding?

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"Damnit, Leese!" Jackson ground out all at once, slapping his hand lightly on the desk, "you finally say something remotely intriguing and then… nothing." Silence still. Jackson sat back a little in his chair, a mask of poise and muted relaxation becoming apparent on his features.

"Well," Jackson continued slowly, "I could always make you talk," he finished, placing particular sinister emphasis on the word 'make.'

Jackson was taken aback when a sardonic laugh began to reverberate from Lisa, shaking her entire body. The perturbed look that crossed Jackson's face only fuelled her almost demonic outburst into fits of laughter until she felt her stomach actually begin to cramp, a forgotten feeling for her since being in this place.

"Go for it!" Lisa exclaimed throwing her hands in the air in a notion of victory. "Make me, Jack. Make me talk! Just like you made me come here, just like you made me obey you," she trailed off, her confident façade replaced by a bitter smile. "There is nothing left you can make me do," She finished sternly, much of the previous humour having left her eyes.

"Well that's just not true." He taunted after a moment's pause, the pointed comment brought an unsettling smile back to her face, much to Jackson's surprise. She rose sharply from the couch and began wandering over to him slowly. She bit her lip and fingered the hem of her dress that clung to her body so provocatively. He couldn't help but admire her figure. She was tiny, almost frail looking, and yet so powerful as he'd come to find.

She stopped a few inches from him, his eyes were at her chest level but he still held her gaze as a look he hadn't seen her wear before crossed her features. It was a playful one, he decided, though it still made him ever so slightly anxious. Still saying nothing, she swung her right leg over his left followed by her left over his right. She straddled him.

Jackson did his best to cover his surprise… and arousal, but she didn't relent. He smelled her scent. The scent that had slowly driven him mad to the point of obsession. She leaned in close, brushing her nose against his neck softly and whispered, "Like I said, Jack, _nothing _left you can make me do."

Jackson couldn't help but run a hand up her smooth thigh, the movement causing her to shudder, whether from pleasure or disgust he did not know. He suddenly pulled her face from his neck and studied her expression in an attempt to read her. He found her unsettlingly unreadable.

"What are you doing, Leese?" He asked somewhat exasperated, somewhat aroused, but definitely curious.

A look of self-satisfaction caused by his vain attempts to uncover her true intentions appeared on her face once more. Though her lips moved to a smile, he noticed, her eyes remained the same, impassive. In a deceptively small voice, she continued to goad him. "Humour me."

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Good... Bad... Horrific... So so?? Continue? R&R!! Let me know =))


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

Sorry, I know it's been a long time coming for this update (you can blame this on a little life-ruiner often referred to as the HSC) but thanks for all the reviews and interest you've shown!

In the first chapter I wanted to portray Lisa as being the one in control, however, in this one I wanted to show the power flip (no pun intended =))

Paragraphing and I have never really been on correct terms but I do hate huge chunks of writing so I basically start a new line 'when it feels right.'

Okay, shut up now. Enjoy!

Jackson could feel himself beginning to slip into a state of heavy arousal. A slave to his lust. Glancing up at her he again noticed that damned smile still playing on her lips. With that, he forced himself to snap out of it, expertly grabbing her hands and pulling them roughly behind her back in a vice grip. He was happy to see that her cocky expression had turned to one of confusion and fear. It was his turn to smile now.

"So you want me Lisa, do you? Or is it that you only want me to want you?" He whispered dangerously.

She remained silent, her eyes losing some of their former certainty. He glanced over her body again slowly; admiring the position she'd gotten herself into, both literally and psychologically. "You should know by now, Leese," He continued, "You never win with Jackson Rippner." With that he quickly scooped her into his arms and proceeded to carry her in the obvious direction of the bedroom.

He could almost hear her brain going into overdrive, no doubt trying to figure out her next move. He didn't mind, in fact he rather enjoyed the challenge. The constant power struggle between the pair, or at least what he let her believe was a struggle, never ceased to amuse him. But this time she had upped the stakes and led their little game into sexual territories, which he of course had absolutely no qualms about. It did, however, make him wonder why. Jackson laughed inwardly to himself, _maybe she was just horny._

She hadn't struggled with him as he'd half expected her to. But the claw-like grip her hands had on his shirt betrayed her. He figured that at this point she was carefully weighing up her options. She'd learned by now that tears seldom got her anywhere in the way of sympathy. Her anger seemed to only serve as strong amusement to him. And the fact that he'd seen through her façade meant she now had very limited options. Upon entering the room he kicked the door closed with his foot and threw her onto the bed, the predatory side of him momentarily enjoying the sight of his prey. She didn't move from the position he'd placed her in; legs crossed at the knees, arms loosely position at her sides. She was undeniably beautiful, even now.

The motion of him loosening his tie seemed to grab her attention as she turned her head to glance in his direction. But she still said nothing.

"How's this for humoring you, Leese, hmm? Anytime you feel like pleading mercy just let me know," He added before slipping off his shirt. If Lisa's beauty was undeniable then so was Jackson's raw attractiveness. He definitely had that dangerous look about him, more so as his eyes began to refill with their initial desire.

"I'm not scared of you, Jack," she finally said rather boldly, sitting up on the bed.

"I know, Lisa, that's what I like about you," He replied, turning to face her. "You could say it's the single reason I enjoy your company so much. Well, that and your charming personality," he added sarcastically. "But unfortunately, Miss Reisert, those lovely qualities are no good to you now."

Jackson stood before her now in only his boxers. She knew he had to be hard but she kept her eyes on his, unwilling to accept the reality and fearful nostalgia that would come with it. She'd made her choice.

"And why would you think I want to get out of this?" She spoke teasingly, lying back down on the bed, her dress caught halfway up her perfect thighs.

Jackson laughed hollowly, "Fine Leese, if you want to play pretend and try to convince us both that you want this then go right ahead. It makes no difference to me."

He crept towards her on the bed, hovering above her, his predictive nature beginning to emerge once more.

"But maybe if you beg me now I'll be a bit gentle," He whispered unnervingly into her ear.

"Don't do me any favours," she answered back unflinchingly.

To an extent, he honestly did admire her courage. In many ways she reminded him somewhat of himself; both never willing to reveal their cards. But now he had her literally on her back and vulnerable, and despite her attempts to cover it, he could tell it scared her senseless. His suspicions were confirmed by her sharp intake of breath as he softly placed a hand on her half exposed thigh. He snaked his other hand through her hair, simultaneously drawing her face closer to his. Even in the dimness of the room, he could see the panic clear in her eyes.

"Truce?" He spoke almost inaudibly, his mouth a mere inch from hers.

Her only answer was to lean forward, pressing her lips firmly to his in mock passion before rolling herself on top of him. Jackson was by no measure fooled by this act she insisted on keeping up, but instead of throwing her back down he allowed her to continue her Oscar-worthy performance of fervor and desire. The way her body grinded down on him where it mattered fuelled his want for her, leading him to place a palm over one of her perfectly formed breast. Again, she let out a single but significant gasp as she tried to draw back from him. But he held her in place, breaking his mouth away from hers.

"Lesson number one, Leese, commit to the part you've assigned yourself to."


	3. Chapter 3

_Okay, I apologize yet again for the slackness and great time lapses in between chapters._

_Truth is, I have no premeditated plan. What you read is what happens to be in my head at the time. I really really really want to do Lisa's character justice and portray her as the strong woman that she is, but this has proven to be more difficult that you'd think. Also, I've tried, as requested, to make this chapter longer. _

_Suggestions, thoughts and ideas, as always, are appreciated!_

_Meanwhile, enjoy!_

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Something indiscernible flashed across Lisa's eyes at Jackson's words and her expression changed significantly. It was defeat, he realized. And it was finally written all over her pretty little face.

Lisa had set out to prove to herself and Jackson that she could do this. To prove she wasn't damaged goods, and that she could use her sexuality to her gain. But the situation had changed and she now found herself pinned under her captor, yet again. She'd have been frustrated had she not been so terrified. As flashbacks of that fateful day in the parking lot began to replay in her head, she felt a solitary tear tumble down her cheek and a steady blush begin to stain her cheeks with shame.

"How did you get so strong?" She whispered, more so to herself than Jackson. "It's exhausting." She added while burying her head in his shoulder.

"Push ups?" He offered lamely.

Jackson was vaguely taken aback by the resigned tone in her voice. He regarded her for a moment, allowing her the false comfort of hiding her face in his chest, even moving a gentle hand to stroke her hair.

But this was not what Lisa wanted. She was no charity case and pity was something she deeply loathed from anyone. So rather than allow her sudden and partially irrational anger to envelop her, she opted to slide a hand down her thigh, hiking up her dress in a bid to entice him back to the safer territory that was his obvious lust for her.

At this gesture he tilted her head up so that he might see her face. _ So beautiful. _He parted his lips to speak but Lisa interjected sharply, feeling bold again.

"That's an invitation," she spoke slowly, patronizingly. And with that she lifted her arms above her head in an almost arrogant, but unspoken gesture for him to undress her. He got the idea, trailing one hand down her side to the hem of dress, which was now situated on her hips. He let his hand trace her hip for a brief second before lifting the dress up her body. She moved when appropriate, allowing him to finally slip it over her head and toss it carelessly to the floor. Much to his delight, Lisa now lay half naked beneath him. Her soft body soothing his hard masculine one, whilst exciting it at the same time. Jackson turned his gaze to her face again but found her head tilted to the side, her lips parted slightly and almost seductively, but her eyes seemingly fixed intently on something else.

"Leese," He began gently, brushing her cheek with his palm and turning her face to look at his, "just say the word."

His sentiment seemed to trigger a deep emotional reaction and she felt her eyes blur with the promise of tears. Placing one hand firmly on his chest, she forced herself to make eye contact and was surprised to find undisguised concern.

"I want you," she whispered finally, no longer sure if she was acting or not but not really caring. That was all the encouragement Jackson needed. He slipped his fingers under the waistband of her panties and kissed her full on the lips, his long awaited hunger for her becoming very apparent. And though it scared her a little, she could feel her body beginning to respond to his touch, it having been so long since she'd been with a man, two years in fact. At that memory, she was suddenly repulsed again.

Lisa hated men. The only one she had a healthy and somewhat honest relationship with being her Father.

"Fuck," she gasped, closing her eyes as Jackson's hand brushed against her scar and a montage began playing in front of her eyes yet again. The intense look he was giving her aided by the piercing colour of his eyes was the only thing keeping her there. Well, that and the fact he had her pinned beneath him. But she feared that wasn't going to be enough. Her breath was coming out shorter and faster and the close proximity of their faces was making her feel claustrophobic. She hoped to God that this wasn't the lead up to a panic attack. She'd been having them up until six months ago and had just begun to think she was cured. But given the circumstances, it was a wonder she hadn't had one sooner.

"Off." She panted suddenly. "Jackson, please, I need you off." But Jackson, seemingly not grasping the full magnitude of what was happening, ignored her, putting her pleas down to another passing bout of modesty. Now feeling thoroughly petrified she began to squirm beneath him in desperate earnest, muttering what was essentially gibberish. Jackson, finally cottoning on, rolled her on top and she immediately sprang up and ran to the bathroom, slamming it shut behind her. Stunned, he heard the click of the lock and the running of water right as he began walking over to the door.

He stood facing the door, running a hand through his hair in slight frustration. It wasn't until he heard her laboured breathing and gasping that he felt reason for concern.

"Lisa, open up," he ordered while knocking on the hard wood separating them. No response. "I don't want to have to ruin my door," he continued, his voice rising with increasing alarm, "but I will," he finished.

"I'm fine _Jack,_" was Lisa's strained response. It was nice to know that even in a time of panic she still insisted on taunting him. "Just give me…" Her voice trailed off and he felt something hit the tiled floor. Without hesitation he, as forewarned, kicked the door in with a single force and found Lisa crumpled on the floor next to the bathtub. He vaguely noted that from her position, it was most likely she'd fallen from the edge of the tub, which was of course better than her collapsing while standing. He hastily knelt beside her, moving her to her side and bringing his face close to hers to check she was breathing. Content that she was, he produced a washer and dampened it under the tap to rest on her forehead. After briefly contemplating where to put her, he effortlessly picked her up and placed her back on his bed. As she was still only in her bra and panties, he decided to do the common courtesy and at least put her in one of his shirts, far be it for him to want to fuck an unconscious girl. Satisfied that her breathing had calmed down as well as her heart rate, he draped a sheet over her and spontaneously kissed her forehead before leaving the room, closing the door soundlessly behind him.

Jackson had spent the remainder of the evening distracting himself by preparing dinner. He marveled at how she could be so damn strong one minute and so… meek the next. Of course he had a rough idea of why she'd come to be this way, but he knew that there was a great deal more she kept to herself. He doubted she even opened up to her Dad.

He hadn't heard a peep from her since he'd tucked her in over two hours ago. Naturally, he'd locked the door but he'd periodically checked her at least three times and she hadn't moved from the peaceful position he'd placed her in. Once finished drying the last dish he picked up the two plates of home made spag bowl and carried them to his bedroom. He cautiously peered round the door, but for no reason. Lisa still had not moved. It was only when he'd sat on the bed beside her and placed dinner on the nightstand that she began to stir. Slowly opening her eyes she looked about the room, her gaze eventually settling on Jackson, and he was shocked to see relief settle on her face as she registered him.

"Mmm something smells good," she breathed, her voice still husky from only just waking. "Who are you trying to impress?" She asked lifting an eyebrow in mock accusation. He let go a short chuckle and handed her a bowl and fork before adjusting the pillows so she could sit up, his hand lingering unnecessarily on her hair. Her almost serene expression suddenly shifted to that of genuine mistrust.

"What are you doing?" She asked quietly.

"Being nice." He retorted simply.

"Being nice or playing nice? She continued, cautiously eyeing him up and down in search of evidence to decide either way.

"What's the difference?" He almost laughed.

"Your intention." She replied seriously.


	4. Chapter 4

_So you guys probably do indeed HATE me for being such a slow bitch. I understand and I am most sorry. I do hope this chapter somewhat makes up for it!_

"Ah." Jackson finally comprehended, stunned by her yet again. Did she really think he would use her current weakened state to his advantage like that?

"So, which is it?" Lisa asked unrelentingly, clutching the bowl of sauce and noodles in a death grip.

Jackson figured it was in his best interest to answer carefully, as he got the feeling that a bad choice of words could result in spag bowl to his chest. He sighed irritably.

"Maybe I just want to make sure you don't pass out like that again anytime soon." He had to refrain from reaching out and touching her. He thought it impossible, but she looked even prettier when she was angry.

"Right," she retaliated, not skipping a beat, " after all, no one likes a dead play thing," she added coldly.

Any trace of a caring gesture he'd formerly wanted to extend suddenly went up in smoke at her words. Though he hated to admit it, she really did have an uncanny ability to piss him off, and he was finding it difficult to disguise his annoyance. He briefly toyed with the idea of pinning her to the bed as a scare tactic, but his logic decided against it. That, and he figured it couldn't be healthy having two panic attacks in one evening.

She hadn't meant to be so harsh, but she couldn't hold back. She'd suddenly felt so angry. Not at him, but at herself. She'd let him affect her to the point of unconsciousness and it perturbed her deeply to know that in her helpless state she'd been completely vulnerable and totally at his discretion. Just as she was considering an apology he broke her train of thought.

"Fuck, you're damaged." He whispered finally, exasperated.

"And yet you insist on keeping me here." She retorted in an even smaller voice.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Lisa never taking her eyes from the floor and Jackson never taking his from Lisa. Eventually they both began eating their now luke warm dinner.

"You cook good." She said simply, breaking the silence, but never looking at him. He smiled.

"You snore." He chuckled in response.

The indignant look on her face was priceless. Her mouth was hung open at the ready to launch into no doubt a stream of profanities. However, upon realizing he was just messing with her she began to laugh too. She continued to laugh until they were both just about rolling on the floor (ROFL =P) in hysterics. Between frenzied snorts and gasping for air she was able to manage to choke out a, "This is so fucked up," which had them both laughing even harder. It wasn't particularly funny at all. Rather, quite the opposite. The entire situation as far as Lisa was concerned was indeed fucked up, and that was putting it mildly, but if she didn't laugh she knew she'd cry or scream. And she was sick of doing that. All of her pent up emotion had suddenly come bubbling to the surface at even such a pathetically small notion of a joke. And that was the excuse she was sticking to. She couldn't handle the thought of becoming accustomed to Jackson's little house of horrors, let alone enjoy herself while there.

The thoughts running through Jackson's mind were not entirely different. It having been so long since he'd given himself a release. _Any _kind of release at all, going a bit overboard with the laughing and so fourth was perfectly justified. And as much as he would berate himself for it later, it was nice to see her happy. He'd missed that smile.

Once the madness had run its course, the room returned to uncomfortable silence as they sat opposite each other outwardly indifferent to one another. Finally, he collected both their plates and headed back out to the kitchen. He'd just turned on the dishwasher when she decided to join him. She still wore the panties she'd worn mid-seduction and the shirt of his he'd put on her as she slept. Sexy was an understatement. But she seemed oblivious.

He cleared his throat after tearing his eyes away from her scantily clad body; thoughts of their previous horizontal encounter wasting no time in filling his mind.

"Lisa, you really _should_ put something on," he half suggested, half warned.

Upon catching his meaning she self-consciously crossed her arms to her chest and bit her lip. Fuck that was even sexier. He had to turn away from her at that point for fear of committing rape. Indecent images were now running freely through his tortured head even as he felt her place a hand softly on his shoulder. He grasped it without even thinking, maybe squeezing it a little harder than he meant to.

"I'll go change," she spoke before he felt her presence behind him shift away.

Lisa didn't know what she was doing. Any rational thought seemed to have temporarily vacated as she sifted through the dresser for a sexier pair of lingerie. This truly was madness. But a significant part of her wanted him. Wanted to feel his body on top of hers. Feel his lips against her skin. She couldn't rationalize it. She was _not _a weak woman. It was not weak to want to be wanted. Need to be needed. As she pulled on her lacy white panties and matching bra she found herself shaking, whether from fear or excitement she did not know. After a few deep breaths she stepped back out into the kitchen area.

He was as she'd left him - his back to her as she nervously tiptoed up behind him. He seemed visually startled as she made a move to grasp his hand in hers. Upon turning to face her, a different kind of astonishment washed over his face.

He'd stood there in her absence forcing himself to stop precisely these thoughts from re-entering his mind. But now she was dressed as she was, standing in front of him, holding his hand nervously and seemingly waiting for a response. He could give her nothing. He was literally speechless.

Both their hearts pounded in the silence that stretched on and one He not moving out of fear of what he may do, and her not moving out of fear of ruining this. Eventually, it was she that spoke first.

She tugged his hand just a little. Adorably so, before ever so softly opening her mouth. "Jackson, please be gentle," was her only request before he almost immediately swept her delicate form into his arms and hurriedly carried her back towards his bedroom.


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